


Unasked for Escort Short Fic

by Indarkstars



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Don't Ask Don't Tell, Escort Service, M/M, Pining, Prostitution, Rough Oral Sex, Sex with a stranger, Skype
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 09:46:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18914473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indarkstars/pseuds/Indarkstars
Summary: Unasked for Escort Michael short fic. Please note while Michael pines for Alex in this, Alex does not make a physical appearance.





	Unasked for Escort Short Fic

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought this would be the first thing I wrote in this fandom but here we are.
> 
> I was linked to one of those silly ‘input name, get results for x’ things and this is what I got for Michael 
> 
> Please note that this story has vague descriptions of a possibly disturbing sexual encounter by Michael and not Alex.
> 
> [Posted on Tumblr here](https://indarkstars.tumblr.com/post/185049594475/unasked-for-escort-short-fic)

Michael had smiled at that prick. 

It had seemed like the thing to do that morning as he climbed out of bed. After all, it wasn’t part of a walk of shame: it was a walk of pride. Pride. Pride from a job well done and a decent night which was going to cover the down payment on a used Airstream.

And now he felt... what? Hallow. Sort of used. Which was strange because he had said all along he wanted it. He wanted this impersonal night and the reward at the end. He ran a hand through his hair and felt his fingers catch on the curls. At least the review left that out, left out any specific details, actually, now that he read it again. He didn't have to worry about anyone ping pointing it was _him_ if some perve in the next library table over was looking at escort offerings. 

Just _inexperienced?_

What was it, he wondered. Was the way he choked when the man fisted Michael's hair and shoved his face down and down until there was spit down his chin and he gagged, raking his nails across an exposed hand and barely keeping away the urge to push with his mind? Was it the laughter and, "You know that will cost you more?"

The man hadn't seemed to mind, "You have a limit?"

"For cash? No." 

And not to pain, either, if he were being honest. But the customer didn't need to know that. 

Michael clicked closed the tab with his digital “Date Book”, opened up skype. There was a yellow dot hovering next to Alex's name. He could call him. He could smirk and ask, "What did you think of me in bed?" instead of "I miss you."

But if were overheard... If Michael was heard and believed for the first time in his life if only for a moment... 

"Fuck don't ask, don't tell." He had said five years ago--or was it six or seven now? He didn't say then and couldn't say now, "Don't leave me. Please."

Alex had already left him by then, anyway. and hadn't had anything to offer except a burned acceptance letter and the vague laughable suggestion: stay here, stay in this truck with me. _There's nothing_ , it would say, _but you'll be free._

Michael thought about it at night, sometimes, looking out at the long expanse of stars that could only be seen a good forty miles or more from anyone. He pressed his head into the cold metal belly of his truck bed, stared up at the sky, and reached for a hand that wasn't and couldn't be there.

Alex's dad was still in town. Alex was meant for more than a cold truckbed and a dream of a beaten up airstream. 

The yellow dot turned green next to Alex's name. Michael hovered over it. It went gray. 

He opened a browser, logged back into his datebook, and opened his availability. Then he logged out and shut down the computer.

Michael through a smile at the librarian behind the counter, "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Aren't you always?" She tried to look stern but her smile bubbled under tight lips.

"Yeah." He tipped his hat to her, "It's a date."


End file.
